


In Servitude, Outlive the Iron Curtain

by SEObean



Series: All is Fair in Love and War [1]
Category: War Thunder (Video Game), World of Tanks
Genre: Anthropomorphic, BDSM, Battle Couple, Captivity, Description of tank battles, Dom/sub, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, F/F, History, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Lesbian Sex, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Porn With Plot, Post-War, Prisoner of War, Pseudo-History, Punishment, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Slavery, Slavic Cultures, Smut, Submission, Tanks, Veterans, Young Soldiers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29916729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SEObean/pseuds/SEObean
Summary: The V-Day was two days ago, yet Hedwig, a Hetzer tank destroyer serving in German SS, was still fighting a hopeless battle in Prague against the Siberian Steel Waves with her sisters in arms. Hedwig knew there wasn't any chance to win for her, but she believed she had learned about how to lose more than enough.Her Siberian enemies were more than happy to prove her wrong, though.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Soviet Tanks/German Tanks (Anthropomorphic), Young Soldier/Veteran from the Opposite Rank
Series: All is Fair in Love and War [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199939
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Forfeiting what she didn't have

Prague was not liberated until two days after the surrender of Nazi Germany, the Army Group Centre based there refused to obey the Oberkommando der Wehrmacht for the first time. And Hedwig, a Hetzer light tank destroyer serving under the last of SS, had no choice but to put up the last desperate defiance and witness the steel waves of Red Army took control of her birthplace, much to her own chagrin. That was exactly what she was, Hedwig realized painfully as her ammo racks were emptied and platoons of T-34s and IS-2s emerged from every street corner, the last defiance in the face of the inevitable fall of the 3rd Reich. 

Produced by Skoda and BMM, Hedwig always considered herself a descendant of the remarkable 38(t)s. They even got the same chassis, after all. On the other hand, as one of the latest tank destroyers of the Axis’, Hetzers like her also had famous elders like StuG III to look up to. She was born to win and make history, or at least that what they told her when Hedwig and her siblings first set foot outside the factory. The truth was, no matter how formidable the Wehrmacht had been at the beginning of the war, it came to be frail against the Allied armored forces by the time Hetzer was designed. Hedwig, joining the stricken giant in 1944, was enlisted far too late to bask in the glory and served just long enough to suffer the aftermath of the final defeat. And there she was, a Czech in the German army, now making a last struggle against the Soviet Union. Been conquered once only to be conquered once more were her home, but Hedwig didn't know what to feel about it, since the sovereignty of her motherland belongs to Germany ever since her birth. She was forfeiting something that never belonged to her, and she might just lose her life in this. The months of exhausting defenses reduced the sentimental part of her to nonexistent. As of that moment, she just felt useless and tired, her body only driven by survival instincts.

Hedwig knew she was supposed to get resupplied and return to the battle, a command from Army Group to which she pledged her fealty. She sprinted through the ruins, going for the shelter at full speed. Upon turning at the last junction, Hedwig felt her blood froze. Three blocks away, on her 12 o’clock, a company that consists of two IS-2s and a SU-100 was looking dead in Hedwig's direction. The young soldier knew her main gun could not penetrate their front armor, even if she still had any ammo left. She didn’t waste time dodging either—she had been fighting against these ferocious opponents for the last 10 months to acknowledge that there would be no chances of survival for a vehicle like her under these 100 and 122mm guns. Giving up all hope, she just lowered her now empty 75mm gun in defeat and stopped struggling, silently waited for her annihilation. Upon hearing the steps of her enemies, she closed her eyes, and that clatter around her was the last thing she heard before being knocked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is interested, I don't really conceive these heavy armor girls as human-machine hybrids, but more like actual human soldiers, only with their armament replaced with tank guns and machine guns. I'm more than sorry if you find the idea of anthropomorphic tanks a buzzkill, but I personally find these tanks' backgrounds very intriguing and see the solid potential for unique characters to blossom from those. The next chapter should be up in a couple of days.


	2. Triumph (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Army Group Center was taken after the week-long offensive, sealing the fate of the 3rd Reich. The Red Army armor brigades that accomplished this historical task were treated with a reward they did not expect.

Zarya, a SU-152 self-propelled howitzer, strode into the auditorium along with her sisters in arms, the joy of V Day still echoing in her chest. Her reliable teammates, Tonya and Serafina, were chuckling about something Zarya failed to catch. It was a precious sight to Zarya anyway, to see the usually watchful T-34-76 and the gloomy IS-2 totally relaxed and getting chatty. The war was over, well, partially thanks to their American and British allies. Zarya remembered the day they rendezvous in Ardenne months ago, the sheer number and ferocious look of them scared the crap out of those American M4s. There would be no Americans in the room this time though. Zarya parted way with Tonya and Serafina to sat down next to other self-propelled howitzers in the front rows. A tall woman nodded at her from the other end of the row, and Zarya recognized her as Shura, an ISU-152 in her battalion. The two had borne the same mission in arms: tear down the concrete shelters and tank armor with their massive main guns. While Shura’s chassis was more advanced and sturdier, Zarya had served longer and was respected by Shura as a veteran. Zarya nodded back and waited for the curtains to rise.

Minutes later, when the joyous chatting in the theatre finally went down, Tasha, Tonya’s sister, a youthful T-34-85 that Zarya also knew well, came out from behind the curtains, wearing a brand new uniform and a halo braid. Tasha was the political commissar of their battalion when they defended the west edge of Ural together less than two years ago. Tonya told Zarya that her sister got promoted to be in charge of the propaganda department for the frontline battalions. It was not hard to see why though—Tasha’s outstanding speech skills and her unwavering commitment as a follower of Stalin made it hard for Kremlin to not put her in charge of the ideological frontiers as they recovered their land and fought their way into Berlin. Meanwhile, Tasha marched to the microphone and started her speech with her back straight as a ramrod.

“Comrades, I would like to congratulate you all for this well-worth victory we earned a week ago. Despite not being there with you all myself when taking Prague, I could feel your collective joy from the victory.” the most accomplished sister of the legendary T-34 siblings said fervently, and continued before another round of applause could rise.

“It was your superb valiance, your unprecedented endurance, your unmoving faith for communism, and our firm belief in Comrade Stalin’s decisions that secured a bright and peaceful future for the U.S.S.R. and its people, that prevented our motherland from being ravaged by the Nazi scums.” The last words elicited quite a few angered grunts in the audience. Zarya lightly nodded in agreement, it had cost her and everyone in this room way too much to come to this day.

“It is not to be questioned that our enemies must pay for their abhorrent doings, and I know by myself that we made them bleed. Did you make them bleed, my comrades? Did you made them Nazi bitches pay for what they did to Mother Russia?” Tasha’s roar echoed in the theater, as her audiences rose to shout back. “Da!” “Ура!” 

“But was it enough?” she raised her pitch, even more, effectively igniting the hatred of her fellow soldiers.

“Never!”

Tasha smiled deviously as she signed her audience to sit. “That’s exactly what our great leader thought. These Nazi bitches had never learned the feeling of having their homeland ravaged, their freedom deprived, their survival threatened, so now, the people they tried to conquer will teach them the hard way how powerful the unity of workers, farmers, and us soldiers could be.” She paused, walking across the stage to get a hold of the curtain strings.

“Our great leader himself had issued a command. You, my fellow sisters in arms, are now officially in charge of the disposal of these Nazi war criminals.” She pulled the string hard, and the thick curtains flung open in seconds. “and I was directly assigned to coordinate these matters.”

Despite the many shocking occasions she had been in throughout the war, Zarya had to admit that she was quite surprised by the sight to behold.

Their former arch-enemies, all totally unarmed, were cuffed and locked on a long chain and lined up with several S-turns so that they could fit the stage. Their badges and pins were all removed from their disheveled grey uniforms, implying that they are no longer proud soldiers of the 3rd Reich but a pathetic bunch of criminals at mercy of the Red Army. They were probably sleep-deprived for the past few days, maybe starved too, Zarya presumed. She knew these soggy eyes and tightened jawlines very well, as she’d seen another StuG III—now a part of the Red Army with the name of Su-76i—look exactly like that upon being captured days after the failed attack on Stalingrad.

The whole room exploded around Zarya like a powder keg when the revealing took place. The dirty words were expected, Zarya even heard a shy Su-76 she once shared ration with muttering “cyka” at some point. It had been too loud for her to actually distinguish, but from the way some of the German soldiers flinch, Zarya assumed they are being sprayed with coaxial machine guns. Minutes passed, until Tasha finally seemed to be kind of irritated by all this chaos, and fired off a blank to interrupt the frenzy.

“I understand your impatience and anger. And trust me, as a part of the spearhead of our brigades, I feel those too, maybe even more than you do.” She took a pause there, weighing her next words. “But as soldiers of the Red Army, you are expected by Comrade Stalin himself to show some discipline and decency.” That definitely shut everyone up. “…at least in the public.” She said the last few words while eyeing a Panther’s exposed neckline lewdly, earning an icy stare from the captive and a few chuckles from under the stage.

“Anyway, a command is a command, so let’s make it quick. We’ll start from the head of the line,” Tasha made a swift gesture, pointing at the infamous StuG III. “to the end of it.” Zarya didn’t wait for any gesture this time and spotted the gloomy yet timid Elefant at the end of the line.

“As you all see, these Nazi bitches are numerous enough to fill a zoo,” the T-34 joked, “so I guess there won’t be too much of a shortage, if anything, most likely a surplus. So my dear comrades, every one of you may pick one during the first round, and then a free-pick round after that. Remember, this is a critical duty, as our party, people, Comrade Stalin himself, and even the world, are waiting to see what we can make out of these invaders.”

“Now, let’s begin.”


End file.
